


Asters and Baby Blue Eyes

by Jeannyboy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Some kissing, in which cas is a floral delivery guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:27:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9484979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeannyboy/pseuds/Jeannyboy
Summary: Cas delivers flowers. Dean constantly orders flowers to be delivered to his home just to see Cas.Written from a prompt I found on Tumblr ages ago.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I found a post on Tumblr ages ago that was posted to deancasheadcanons and I found it and this happened. 
> 
> I tried to write them in character, or as close to them as I could. Spoke to my rommate about it and he thinks it sounds like season 5 Cas so that's basically what I was going for I guess.
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> As always, creative criticism and comments are always appreciated!

“'Make sure the asters make it there on time, they specifically wanted the asters if nothing else.' Fucking asters. Why asters? They're literally one of the ugliest fucking flowers. Ever. Why do we even have them?” Cas was muttering to himself the entire time he loaded floral arrangements into the delivery van. One tipped over in his hands, the damn asters, spilling water down his dark wash jeans.

He bit his cheek, his nostrils flaring as he held in a scream of rage, splashing more water along the back of the van while refilling the vase from a jug reserved for that exact purpose. With that finished Cas hopped into the van, slamming the door behind him, and started programming the GPS for the best route while mentally calculating the distances, and times, the deliveries would be expected to be completed by.

Cas sighed when he looked at the scheduled drop offs, noticing that one bouquet of nothing but Baby Blue Eyes was headed out into the country, to the same address that ordered flowers once, if not twice, a week. He delivered so often to the little cabin that he knew the road by heart, all the pot holes to miss, which hidden entrances to take, and the fact that if you turned on the road the GPS took you, you came out on top of the hill behind the house instead of in the driveway.

He growled as the sky continued to dump buckets of rain. It was not going to be an enjoyable day on the job. Not that it ever was, but Cas knew the spill on his pants would be a distant memory once the deliveries started.

“Fucking flowers. Fucking job. Fucking Goldenrod mother fucker. Ordering flowers again? Who the hell does he even give them to? There's only ever him there!” Cas talked to himself over the low din of the radio. There was no use in turning it up, the signal was shit around town, and would only cast static once he hit the hills.

 

It took him nearly twice the time it normally would have to even get out of town. The rain had been coming down so hard that most drivers had gotten stuck in the water trying to cross main street which, of course, had been built in the lowest part of the area, making it the best collector of rain water on gloomy days.

By the time he finally made it to the service road that would lead him out into the country, he was all but punching the steering wheel in frustration.

Cas usually was a level headed person. Never one to rise to anger until he had taken the flower delivery job. It turned out that, unbeknownst to him, he had a terrible case of road rage that only surfaced when he had to deliver overpriced flowers to the kind of people that would pay upwards of $45 for an arrangement of flowers they could easily pick by the side of the road for free.

So, five days of the week, eight to five, Cas was a raging maniac on the road. Any other time he was peaceful, well spoken of by his friends and family, who had yet to bear witness to the monster he became behind the wheel of that neon green delivery van.

 

Today was definitely not Cas's day. As soon as he turned off the main road, he found himself trapped behind a line of cars that were treading carefully over poorly maintained asphalt. He kept glancing at the GPS, watching as the ETA time continually crept further and further, making him somehow even angrier than he'd been at the start of his journey.

Needless to say he was not happy when the last car turned off from in front of him and he pushed the green monstrosity forward, only to slam on the brakes as he drove around a curve to find the bridge submerged under a rushing river.

“Oh come on!” Cas smacked the steering wheel, completely loosing his cool in the middle of the road. If he had been lesser of a man he would've gotten out and slung every last arrangement into the river itself. However, after a few minutes of cursing, he cooled down, turned around, and made his way around the river to a higher bridge, coming down the hill instead of going up.

 

* * *

 

 

At the sound of a knock at the door, Dean's lips automatically lifted into a smile. He paused in front of the mirror and ran a hand through his hair, making sure he looked good, before sidling up to said door and opening it with his best smile. He'd stood in front of that mirror countless times, contorting his face into various expressions with different smiles, from smolder to grin and everything in between, before he'd settled on a pleasant expression that made his eyes crinkle and, in his modest opinion, caused them to light up beautifully.

His face fell, however, when he opened the door and saw the bedraggled man that stood on the other side, clenching an equally drenched bouquet of Baby Blue Eyes.

His eyes were tired and reflected the storm that raged outside. His shoulders were hunched, defeated. “I have a delivery for one Dean Winchester.” His voice was edged, aggravated that Dean had made him come all the way into the boonies to deliver him a flower that he could've waded into the woods surrounding his house to find.

Dean took the flowers gently, his warm fingers brushing against Castiel's frozen ones.

“Well, they're actually for you.” Dean still held onto the bouquet, not wanting to relinquish his hold on Cas' hand, the briefest of touches that had his gut churning with its own storm. “They match you eyes.” Dean smiled again, not as fully as before, but a sweeter smile, one that was genuine without him having to try.

Cas stood there, the sour look on his face turning to one of confusion.

“You made me..drive all the way out here, in this God forsaken weather, so that you could give me flowers..that you had me deliver..to myself?”

Dean shrugged one shoulder. “I ordered these days ago, before I knew what the weather would be like. Plus, I didn't know where you lived so I thought of the next best thing. You get paid and I got to see your pretty face, until I could actually work up the courage to ask you on a real date.”

“ _That's_ what you've been doing ordering flowers the past month and a half?”

Dean's smile grew sheepish, glassy green eyes darting between Cas and the flowers they both still held between them. “Yeeaahh.”

They stood in the doorway for a minute, staring at each other, awkwardness pooling between them until Cas spoke.

“So what did you imagine happened next?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did you think that this would be some weird fantasy like in a cheap porno where the woman drags the pizza boy into the house where they proceed to wreck the house with their sexual escapade?”

Dean's cheeks heated and he laughed. “Oh fuck, sweetheart, nothin' like that!”

“You sayin I don't get adequate payment for all my troubles?”

Dean's eyes snapped back to Cas's, meeting them uncertainly. “Wh-what?” He was a stuttering mess, his words, his heart, everything.

“I just went through the fifth circle of hell to bring you these fucking flowers, I better at least get a kiss.” Cas smiled devilishly, eyes gleaming wickedly from underneath the anger that had been curled in the icy depths earlier.

Licking his lips, Dean nodded “Uhm yeah. Yeah of course. Uhm how-” He was caught off guard as Cas surged forward, catching his lips with his own. His lips were cold and Dean could feel goosebumps on his neck as he cradled his head with his hand. The inky strands of Cas's hair were sopping, water dripping all down Dean's arm as he pulled him closer, the bouquet forgotten in a mash of petals between them.

Cas brought one hand up to Dean's face. Dean sucked in a breath from the cold that passed from Cas's fingers to his blush heated cheeks.

Dean was the first to pull away, his eyes glazed with desire, head spinning with the hope that this was a reality and not another fantasy involving the blue eyed florist.

“C'mon sweetheart, let's get you in out of the cold.” Cas glanced back at the van that was parked in the gravel driveway, a sigh escaping his lips, he opened his mouth. Before he could speak, Dean intoned “You're already late and the bridge is washed out. Come at least warm up until the rain has a chance to calm down.” He hadn't let go of Cas's hand, pulling at it gently until the other man sighed, following him into the warmth of the cabin.

Cas's daring had run out with his anger. He now stood by the door with Dean's warm fingers still clasped in his own, an embarrassed blush dusting his pale cheeks. Under the irritation of driving out to the secluded home, Cas had always found the loner handsome, devilish in his good looks and mannerisms in their short interactions. Dean was fully capable of building want in someone so strong that they abandoned all logic and rushed in before the moment has passed, Cas included. He was, however, still so naive and nervous that the spark of courage that had flared up so quickly had fizzled out with equal swiftness.

So he stood there, palm sweating with nerves, even as his fingers continued to thaw in the heat of Dean's house. As Dean helped Cas out of his coat, Cas glanced around the interior. Classic Rock music played from an unknown source, a huge TV was mounted to one wall, cases of movies surrounding it. Another wall sported guns and various odd weapons hanging as decoration. Shabby yet comfortable looking furniture was scattered around the cozy space. A wood stove in the corner seemed to be the source of the heat, apart from the stirring on Cas's own stomach. He came back to Dean when the other male placed a gentle touch on his lower back, directing him further into the house.

“Listen Dean I-”

“Sweetheart, look-”

Their eyes met as they both clamped their mouths shut, mirth dancing in Dean's green eyes.

“Sorry. Uhm, can I ask a dumb question?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Dean smiled like an idiot, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now I generally don't get kissed by people's whose names are a mystery. Got a name, Angel?”

It was Cas's turn to smile. “It's Castiel. Cas.”

“So you are an angel?”

“What?”

“Castiel. That's the name of one of God's angels.” Dean tilted his head. “You didn't knoq that?”

Cas was loosening up, his nervousness melting away the longer they talked.

“I guess I just always thought my mom was on drugs when she named me.”

This caused Dean to smile wider, some of his freckles getting lost in the crinkles of his eyes. Cas had the urge to kiss him again, but without the proper courage, he remained where he was, smiling softly at the man who had been both a constant pain as well as the occasional dream fuel on nights after a delivery to his home.

It was such thoughts that Dean broke Cas out of when he gained his attention again.

“So, sweetheart, Cas. You were saying something before I rudely interrupted you?”

“Oh...yes. Well I just wanted you to know that I don't normally...kiss my clients.”

“Oh well that's a relief!” Dean full out laughed, his eyes closing completely as he placed his hands on his hips. When he opened his eyes, it was to the confused look on Cas's face.

“I didn't mean to any offense, I just meant that it's good to know that I accomplished what I set out to do.”

“Which was?”

“I got a kiss, didn't I?” Dean winked at Cas and moved towards the open kitchen. “Would you like something to drink? I've got coffee, tap water, and any kind of dark liquor you could imagine. Well...that Bobby's sells anyhow.”

Cas was momentarily stunned, one, by the fact that Dean had planned, well not this necessarily, but something to steal a kiss from Cas (in which he stole nothing, was forced into a kiss was more like it). Two, by the genuine hospitality he was showing a stranger in his own home.

“Angel?” Dean's face seemed to be set in a permanent smile as he waited for a response from the flabbergasted man standing in the middle of his home.

“Oh, uhm sure. Coffee I guess.” Dean made a mental note to fluster him more often if they were ever to spend any real time together; a flustered Cas had rosy cheeks and an innocence in his blue eyes that liquefied Dean's insides with heat. Dean turned his back as he fetched two mugs from his cabinets, filling them with coffee.

“Sugar?”

Cas whipped his head towards Dean. “Yeah? I mean, no. Black's fine.”

Dean chuckled, placing the cup at the head of the small table that sat in front of the kitchen window; the only place that wasn't covered by papers. “I'd be glad to call you sugar if that's what you prefer.”

“Oh no, sorry I wasn't even paying attention, I-”

“Drink yer damn coffee before I kiss you again to shut you up.”

Cas's blue eyes got wide, the flush on his face somehow deepening further than what it already was as he sat and sipped his coffee. Dean hummed along with the Kansas song that played in the background as he went about making his own cup, complete with sugar and vanilla creamer. His hips swayed a little to the beat of the song, drawing Cas's gaze to the tight fit of his pants. He turned quickly away, focusing on anything else as Dean spun on his heel to sit with him.

“So Cas, did it hurt?”

Cas hurried to swallow the coffee past the lump in his throat. “What?”

“When you fell from heaven?” Dean smiled like he had just said something clever.

Rolling his eyes, Cas felt his ability to speak without his voice shaking from nerves return. “Must be pretty ballsy to take on the Devil for his good looks.”

Dean winked, taking it in stride. “Challenged him to a battle of charm and won.”

The two chuckled and sipped at their coffee. Cas couldn't remember being so nervous around someone so attractive. Dean couldn't remember being so attracted to someone so nervous.

“So, Dean, what was your plan?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, you said you've been ordering flowers until you had worked up the courage to ask me out. You don't really seem like you should've had any trouble asking. You seem pretty confident in your abilities.”

Dean chuckled, suddenly the one that was nervous. “Yeah, well, not always. You always seemed so ruffled that I didn't want to sour your mood further by being that creep that asks you out while you're doing your job.”

“Yet you'd have me come all the way out here to bring you flowers, even though I always seemed so angry from having to drive all the way out here?”

“You were always mad because of the drive?”

“Well yeah, I mean you live in the sticks. And you're never my last stop so I always get behind and have to make it up somewhere.” He sipped at his coffee, watching Dean's face.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, I never thought it was that. I always thought it was just road rage in general.”

“I mean yeah, God how do I hate to drive. This is me normally. The other me, the one that had the courage to kiss you on the doorstep, that was a different Cas. Angry Cas.”

“Do I have to make you angry every time I'd like you to kiss me?” Dean had finally found his opening, smirking as he teased.

Cas pressed him lips into a line, embarrassed once again. “No.” He muttered, barely audible over the rain that still pounded on the roof.

“What was that?” Dean sat his mug down, leaning closer to the dark haired beauty.

“I said no. I mean...I'm just not very good at this.”

“What? Kissing? Cause you seemed pretty adept at that.”

Cas's cheeks resumed their burn and he stared down into his mug. “I mean everything. I've never been with a man and, women....elude me. I don't ever know what to do. Or say. Or how to act.”

“Oh darlin' you're doin' fine. Perfect I'd say.”

Dean's face was closer now, his hand had traveled across the wooden tabletop to rest on Cas's, his thumb stroking over the others' knuckles.

“So, is there any chance of you gettin' mad again?”

Cas looked up at Dean, not having to tilt his head far for their gazes to meet.

“What for?”

Dean shrugged. “Just achin' for another one of those kisses. If I gotta get ya mad for one, I'd like to know so I can start thinkin' of ways to.” He grinned, his gaze flicking briefly to Cas's lips and back up again.

The brunette swallowed as he felt his hands begin to sweat again. He wasn't good at this. He couldn't flirt, he couldn't tease like the man in front of him could. He could barely take it without acting like a blushing virgin, let alone dish it out. But Dean said he wanted to kiss him again. Had called him an angel...

It wasn't the surge of courage like earlier, more like a gentle wave lapping at him, a barely-there nudge that had him closing the distance between them. He had to brace his arm on the table, leaning his weight forward to touch his lips to Dean's.

It wasn't electric and heated like the first one they shared, but sweet and _full_.

When they pulled away, Dean looked between Cas's sky blue eyes before he closed the gap a second time, pulling himself fully out of his chair to push Cas back, his hand coming up to cradle Cas's head, grounding himself so he wouldn't float away from the fluttering in his heart.

Cas made a sound of surprise, but didn't resist against Dean, instead he allowed himself to be pinned to the back of the seat as Dean kissed him. He didn't have to do anything except reciprocate the kiss. Dean did all the work, tilting his head so that their mouths fit perfectly; Cas just following lead as Dean dipped his tongue into his mouth, tasting the sharp tang of coffee. When Cas mirrored him, he hummed at the sweet taste of Dean's mouth. Other kisses had mostly been plagued by the overwhelming bitterness of alcohol, but this one...

Cas sighed into Dean's mouth, using one hand to grasp his well muscled bicep, the other coming to rest on the side of the others' neck, his thumb stroking over the stubble at the edge of his jaw. Dean shivered and smiled, pulling away to catch his breath.

“Damn, darlin'. For someone who's not good at this stuff, you sure are makin' me a sinner from just the thoughts runnin' through my head. What kinda angel are you?”

Cas grinned. “The kind that tests just how far you'll fall before I've gotta stop your silly ass from sinnin'.”

Dean smiled. “But what happens if you sin, too?”

Cas feigned thought for a moment before he shrugged, a nervous laugh entangling with his words. “Guess we'll have to find out?” His words crested up into a question as he stared innocently at the other man that towered over him. If he hadn't been gazing into those sea glass colored eyes, he wouldn't have seen the way they darkened with lust, or the slight shake he gave his head like he was trying to cast out steaming thoughts before deciding they were better in his head than out in the open.

“You make it hard for a man to keep himself from doin' things he ought not to.” He leaned down once more, placing his lips softly on Cas's. After only a short while, though, he pulled back, a pleasant hum resonating between them. Cas felt Dean's hand tighten its grip in his hair, watched as the muscles in his arms and jaw tightened. Dean licked his bottom lip, running it between his teeth as he swept his gaze over Cas, before pulling himself away completely from the other male. He hooked his fingers together behind his head and stared down at Cas. “How the hell do you do it?”

Cas looked up, suddenly very nervous again. “What?”

Dean chuckled. “Fuckin', this.” He didn't have to gesture to himself for Cas to understand. Cas's face was red again before he knew it.

“Oh. Lucky, I guess.”

“Luck ain't got nothin' to do with it. You know how good you are.”

“Actually, Dean, I do not. Still not good at this.”

Dean scoffed. “Coulda fooled me.” He stretched before resuming his spot at the table where he sipped at his cooling coffee all while playfully nudging his foot beneath the table and watching Cas. After a moment he smiled to himself and peered down into his mug. Dean decided then that he wanted to do this right. He didn't want those fantasies (he _wanted_ them, just not like Cas had mentioned earlier. The dark haired angel was worth more than reenacting a cheap porno) he wanted something more. What he wanted was to know was how it felt to wake up to the same person for more than just one or two mornings.

He didn't believe in love at first sight, or fairytale love that transpired between two people in only a matter of weeks. He could honestly tell himself that Cas was the most attractive man he had ever laid his eyes on, his rumpled brunette hair and those ice blue eyes that seemed to burn right through you, even if he just met your eyes for a second before shoving flowers into your chest and turning. He wasn't in love, sure, but he _was_ in trouble. Deep, lusty trouble.

Dean broke the silence between them with a cough. Cas looked at him at once, scared he'd be asked to leave and never come back. Even with Dean's reassurances, Cas still was unwilling to believe that he'd had that kind of effect on Dean.

“So what's the chances of you accepting my offer to take you out on a date?” He nudged his foot against Cas's again until the other nudged back, however slightly.

It was several moments before Cas looked up, pleasantly surprised when he found Dean already gazing at him. His smile turned into a full blown grin, his laughter breathy. “I'd love to.”

 


End file.
